


Witch

by bluehasnoclues



Series: harry potter oneshots [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: I saw the christmas special and I was inspired sorry, for everything to go well?, let's be real what did sabrina expect, lmao she should know better by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:44:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluehasnoclues/pseuds/bluehasnoclues
Summary: Sabrina attempts to contact her mother. She brings something back much, much worse.





	Witch

Sabrina carefully lay her mother’s white dress on the table. Her hands were shaking; odd, because she’d never felt quite so sure of something before.

“Hands face down on the table, pinkies touching,” Agatha instructed quietly. “Now, focus your energy. Send it into the table.”

Sabrina closed her eyes. The air felt charged. She cast her mind inside herself, as she’d only just learned how to do, and the power was waiting for her. It was dark and slippery, resting right under her skin; it thrummed with anticipation.

 _Power,_ Sabrina thought mildly. _This is what I gained when I signed the book._

“Spirits below and above, spirits in between, caught in the fabric betwixt worlds, we ask that the Veil be lifted and that you send forth the spirit of Diana Regina Sawyer-Spellman. Diana, you’re welcome to this house, to this circle… if you’re here, we ask that you make your presence known.”

A slight breeze blew through the room; the curtains rippled. The air turned thick. Sabrina felt her hair stand on end, like a bolt of lightning had stuck too close.

Agatha gasped, bringing her hands to rest over her heart.

The circle was broken. 

Nothing moved, but the silence that filled the room was anything but calm. 

The power that was under Sabrina's skin, the power that was softly lying in wait... it recoiled with a force that had the shadows flaring. 

"What was that?" Dorcas muttered, more of a statement than a question, and Sabrina simply looked at her in response. 

And then glanced over at Prudence, whose head was bowed, eyes open wide in fear; Sabrina slowly followed her gaze downward, to the previously ebony-white dress on the table. 

The shadows reached out, staining the spotless color, dripping black ink that swirled and changed the designs. It wasn't unlike Sabrina's Dark Baptism; but this time, with the shadows slowly reaching upwards, her mother's dress steadily rising of its own accord... 

"Mom?" Sabrina's mouth moved without her meaning it to, because a sickening feeling was setting up in her stomach, as the dark of the shadows coalesced into a sick mockery of a body. 

The figure, increasingly solid, stood. The shadows drained towards the dress, leaving pale, alabaster skin in its wake. 

Dark, heavy-lidded eyes stared down at them. Thin lips curled. 

"Itsy-bitsy witchies let their Yule Log  _burn_ ," the creature-woman sang softly. 

Agatha stumbled back. Prudence seemed frozen in place; Dorcas looked up at the creature-woman, terror in her eyes, and Sabrina gathered every last reserve of her Spellman-half-witch courage. Her heart thudded in her chest. She could hear her blood in her ears. 

"You are not welcome here," Sabrina said. She sounded stronger than she felt. 

"Diana," the creature-woman rolled her eyes, looking more and more human with every passing second. "That whining muggle? I was doing you a  _favor_." 

"What did you do to my mother?" Sabrina breathed in horror. 

The creature-woman hummed noncommittally, and stepped off the table. "I would thank you for freeing me," the creature-woman crooned, "but really, you brought this upon yourselves."

She didn't bother to close the door on her way out.

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

"Miss Wardwell," Sabrina gasped, her words barely distinguishable between her deep breaths. 

"Sabrina?" Lilith had opened her door to the girl, standing shivering in the rain. Past midnight, no less. Something had, predictably, gone wrong with the séance. 

Lilith allowed herself a moment of victory before pulling the shaking girl inside. 

"Did something happen?" Lilith feigned obliviousness. 

"We — me and the Weird Sisters — we were doing the séance, everything was working —" Sabrina visibly collected herself before continuing. "Something else came through, Miss Wardwell. Our Yule Log burnt out, and something — someone — else came through."

"Oh?" Lilith asked, curious despite herself. "Tell me everything."

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

"My Lord... something has happened." Lilith didn't know if He would be pleased or furious; and that was a very, very bad sign. 

"Bring her to me," he finally rasped out. Lilith couldn't help the chills that ran down her spine. 

"Yes, my Lord," the demoness murmured.

Very, very bad indeed. 

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

Lilith wasn't sure what she was expecting as she tracked the foreign witch. From Sabrina's rather lacking description, the stranger would be quite formidable. Lilith hadn't doubted that; interrupting a séance wasn't a simple spell. 

But, as she descended upon the witch, Lilith was almost disappointed. There was madness in the stranger's eyes, a sort of magic that always left a person a step behind. 

"I don't suppose you have a wand?" The stranger asked. Her voice was melodious; lilting. 

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you," Lilith said. The other woman's eyes lit up. 

"He's here?" She crowed. "The Dark Lord is here. His power is eternal. Yes, yes." Then, curiously, the woman looked down at her arm, frowning, as if she had realized something. 

"Follow me," Lilith said, feeling too much like a messenger-boy. 

The stranger tailed after her diligently. "How long has he been here? The Dark Lord?"

Lilith's eyes tightened with confusion. "Satan —" She began, but was cut off by the sneer that appeared on the woman's face. 

"Hm. He lets you speak his name?" She asked. 

Lilith frowned. "The Dark Lord is —"

"Pathetic," the stranger scoffed. 

"You  _dare_ —" 

"Crucio," the woman drawled, almost lazily, and Lilith's world exploded into pain.

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

Bellatrix had been  _excited_ to leave the Realm of the Dead. It had been dreadfully boring there, floating around in Limbo for an eternity; there was fog, cold, more fog, and only the occasional scream to speak of. 

When a connection opened, she had seized the opportunity with both hands and  _pulled_. She pushed aside the sobbing muggle with a twitch of her wrist, and was vaguely disappointed when she didn't have time to hex the witches that had brought her through. 

And now, Bellatrix discovered, there was a stranger masquerading as the Dark Lord. As if the devil was worse than  _her_ Lord. The very thought was laughable. Her Mark thrummed in time with her amusement. 

It was blessedly easy to cast a wandless Cruciatus. 

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

People always underestimated Bella. 

They knew the capabilities of Bellatrix Black. They were well-aware of the reputation of Bellatrix Lestrange. 

The Dark Lord was the one that shaped Bella. From the ashes of her former self, he forged the perfect servant. She would languish forever in Azkaban for him; she would lie at his feet and kiss his robes without question; she would learn new and old magics at his request, above and beyond. 

The person who sought out the false Lord... she was not a Noble and Ancient Black, nor a twisted and dark Lestrange. 

She was Bella. 

And Bella was so, so much worse. 

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

"A birdie told me a story today," Bella sang softly. "Of a liar that claims that he's the truth."

The false Lord snarled. 

Something twisted in Bella's eyes. The room darkened and the lights flared. 

"This world is  _mine_ now," Bella murmured, "and I'll not have your lies sullying it up before I can even begin."

A certain aura, unfamiliar to this world, gathered in her hand, and the familiar tightness in her chest made it easier to breathe. She would make a wand later; for now, herself was enough. 

Bella let the feeling fill her. It was so much purer, cleaner, than the magic here. 

A flash of light; two soft words, murmured as if in memory of a lover, and the world would be hers. 

" _Avada Kedavra."_

…… …… …… …… …… …… 

Bella laughed. 

 

 

 


End file.
